


you break me

by charizona



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Strap-Ons, Tags will be updated each chapter, every chapter is just them fucking in different cities while on the run, set some time in the future where they're in hiding together and have fucked many times before this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-07 06:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charizona/pseuds/charizona
Summary: Villanelle and Eve are on the run, but sex is important, too.





	1. villanelle's big strap energy

Villanelle waltzes into the room wearing something masculine, something with boxy shoulders and something that is too big for her. She likes wearing things like this; it makes her feel powerful in a different way than dresses and heels do. Everything is expensive, so therefore everything is powerful, but the most powerful? Is the look Eve gives her when she sees Villanelle in this outfit. 

Eve, she sits on the bed with papers splayed out before her, planning their next move, and of course, Villanelle had been shopping. Before Eve can comment, Villanelle says, “Now, Eve, I got something very important.”

Sitting up, reaching for her hair to run a hand through it (her delightful hair), Eve says, “Did you?”

“You sound tired,” Villanelle points out, walking over a bit stiffly. If Eve notices her awkwardness, she doesn’t say anything.

“I am tired.” Eve finally looks at her, and Villanelle gets close enough to reach out, put her hand on Eve’s cheek. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, before Eve’s eyes flutter closed. “I don’t know where we should go next. Should we go to Ireland? New York? Should we -”

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I bought?” Villanelle stands a little taller, still trying to take control of the situation.

“If it’s more lingerie, I could’ve told you to  _ not  _ do that.” Eve rubs her face with both hands, and Villanelle reaches for one of the, intertwining their fingers.

It still makes her heart pound, the way Eve holds her hand now. Villanelle squeezes Eve’s hand, shaking her head. “Don’t be ungrateful, Eve.” Eve looks up at her, and Villanelle smiles. Eve is putting up with her, and Villanelle appreciates it, but she’s not in the mood to let Eve know that right now.

“What did you buy, Villanelle?”

Villanelle moves Eve’s hand to her crotch. There, underneath the perfect-fitting pants, is a hard bulge, crammed uncomfortably into Villanelle’s silk boxer briefs. Eve’s mouth falls open, and to Villanelle’s surprise, she doesn’t immediately tear her hand away. She holds it there, even curling her fingers around the shape of it. Villanelle smiles, her lips pressed together.

At most, she expects Eve to scoff at her, make an uncomfortable joke, or  _ something _ , that is  _ not _ reaching for Villanelle’s belt. Eve goes for the belt and Villanelle’s brows knit together for just a moment, before she understands where this is going. “Eve,” she breathes, as Eve pulls Villanelle’s belt out of the loops completely. She shoves Villanelle’s pants down to her knees, and there, sitting on the bed with Villanelle standing above her, she’s at the perfect angle to --

_ Oh _ . She pulls down the elastic of Villanelle’s briefs, letting the strap free with a little bounce. Eve looks up at her, eyes dark, and then she’s -- she’s pressing her lips to the head of it. Villanelle is completely caught off guard, watching as Eve’s tongue slips between her lips, finding the toy that Villanelle had gotten for  _ fun _ , and gosh, Eve, it was  _ expensive _ . Is she just going to…?

Yes, Eve is just going to. 

“You know,” Villanelle breathes, and she’s never  _ wished  _ that she were a man, but something about this… She understands why they must like it. “I spent months looking for the right one.”

“Did you?” Eve responds, and then she’s putting her whole mouth over the head of it, enveloping it like a fucking lollipop.

“It’s glass,” Villanelle hums, and she grows enough courage to reach out and place her hand on the edge of Eve’s hair, then slide her fingers into it. It never gets old, touching Eve’s hair, and this time is now different. She doesn’t apply pressure as Eve pushes forward, then back, until she does, and she pulls Eve’s head closer and closer until Eve gags on it. Eve pulls back, Villanelle lets her collect herself, and then Eve presses kisses down the shaft of it, then Villanelle’s thighs, then she  _ bites _ \--

“Ow,” Villanelle breathes, and Eve bites  _ harder _ . 

And as hot as Eve’s mouth on this delicately and intricately beautiful glass dildo is (really, Villanelle spent a long time doing the research, finding the  _ right  _ one), Villanelle grabs the hair at the base of her head and pulls her up. Hard enough to hurt, to tug at Eve’s scalp, and the small sound Eve makes gets lost as Villanelle presses their lips together. It’s a wet kiss, saliva coating Eve’s lips, and Villanelle imagines tasting herself on them.

She pushes Eve back, ignoring the hitch in Eve’s breathing as their hips press flush against each other, the strap hard between Eve’s legs. Eve falls onto the bed, paper crinkling beneath her, and Villanelle crawls on top of her, pushing her hips harder and harder into Eve’s.

Eve reaches between them, hand around the strap, and then shoves Villanelle off of her, and before Villanelle realizes it, Eve’s got them flipped. She hovers over Villanelle before kissing the shit out of her, before grabbing the strap and angling it past her underwear, before just fucking  _ sitting _ on it, with a sigh that makes Villanelle think she’s dreaming.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Eve says, and Villanelle can’t help but smile. Eve’s hips rock back and forth, not quite hard or soft, but teasing just enough to get used to the feeling of Villanelle filling her up. Villanelle pulls her down, kisses her, and then her hands find Eve’s hips, angling them so she can get the leverage, even if Eve’s on top of her. She moves her hips, pulling out and then pressing  _ hard _ back in. Eve gasps  -- she can’t even keep kissing Villanelle long enough.

That’s fine. Villanelle rocks her hips slowly, slow enough that it annoys Eve. She tries to catch up with the rhythm by creating a rhythm of her own, but Villanelle doesn’t let her. “Just  _ fuck _ me,” she breathes into Villanelle’s ear, and Villanelle responds by diving into her neck, biting it hard, scraping her teeth on Eve’s jugular, and moving her hips… faster.

Eve groans and attempts to find the rhythm -- she can’t, so Villanelle just goes with the flow. She thrusts in and out of Eve, listening to every breath, moan, and whine Eve makes in response. As Eve nears climax, her hips attempting to match Villanelle’s, her breath hot and heavy on Villanelle’s neck, and her hair, her fucking  _ hair _ , in Villanelle’s face, eyes, mouth. Just as she gets there, Villanelle says, soft enough, “Do you want to know how much it was?”

Eve desperately shakes her head. Villanelle slows down, offended, and Eve immediately says, “Villanelle,  _ please _ \-- Don’t  _ stop _ .”

“You’re being rude,” Villanelle replies, almost stopping completely.

“Fine, fine, fine,” Eve says, and she can’t say it fast enough. “How much was it?” It comes out as a gasp.

Villanelle flips them over, slamming Eve back onto the bed and letting the strap slip out of her. She shoves it back in, a bit too hard, and Eve groans. She looks down at Eve, smiling. “Almost one thousand.”

“Wow,” Eve says, and Villanelle knows she doesn’t care.

“Yes,  _ wow _ ,” Villanelle says, and then she fucks Eve senseless. Hard, hot, heavy -- she drills into Eve like she knows Eve wants it. She pins Eve’s hands above her head, slams their hips together, and soon enough, Eve’s coming, her body convulsing and shaking and  _ God _ , she’s beautiful, Villanelle thinks.

Villanelle slips out of her, then falls down onto the bed beside Eve. Eve lies there, breathing hard. She curls into Villanelle, kisses her softly, and then sits up. She gathers the crumpled papers and resumes doing whatever she was doing before Villanelle got back.

“Eve,” Villanelle says, annoyed. “This harness is  _ custom _ . At the very least, you could --”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Eve responds, and she leans over to press a steady kiss on Villanelle’s lips. Villanelle pouts as Eve pulls away, and Eve says, “But we’ve really got to figure out where we’re going next.”

“Okay,” Villanelle says, but she makes absolutely no move to help. She looks down at herself, at the dildo resting against her thigh. Slick with  _ Eve _ . She touches it. She imagines she can feel what it feels like, as she curls her fingers around it.

She thinks about fucking Eve again, later, as Eve plans where they’re running away together next.


	2. eve's not as big strap energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle takes Eve to a sex shop.

Turns out, when you’re running from an international crime organization and a prominent government agency, there are a lot more places to hide than Eve thought there would be. They’re on their sixth hideout in four months, and Eve is  _ tired _ . Villanelle, on the other hand, still is a burst of energy, lighting up Eve’s life in ways she hadn’t expected.

The sex is good. The sex, actually, is  _ great _ . So great it’s scary. Eve’s never been the casual type, so after falling into bed three times on their journey, she found herself stroking Villanelle’s head and found her heart fluttering when a half-asleep, naked Villanelle snuggled deeper against her.

Eve doesn’t consider herself prudish, but next to Villanelle, she can probably be mistaken for a nun. So when Villanelle suggests they go to a sex shop, Eve’s eyes bug.

“The last time I was in a sex shop was twenty years ago in Connecticut.” She isn’t looking at Villanelle, so Eve misses the face she makes.

“Eve,” Villanelle says, breezy and sort of like a whine. It’s how she says Eve’s name lately, letting the first  _ eee _ last longer than it should. “A sex shop in Amsterdam is a far cry from one in  _ America _ .”

How different, Eve thinks, can a place that sells sex toys possibly be? “Can’t you just,” she tries, making herself busier by going through her light suitcase for a second time, “Order whatever you want online, like you did the last time? You know, the, um, the —“

“Strap on,” Villanelle drawls.

And Eve turns to find Villanelle smiling at her, perched on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a robe. They haven’t talked about  _ what _ exactly they are, so Eve ignores the way her cheeks burn when Villanelle smiles wider, noticing Eve’s gaze drop to the generous view of cleavage the robe offers. 

“Right. That.”

“I want to go with you,” Villanelle says simply. “It’s been  _ weeks _ since we’ve actually done anything fun.”

“We’re on the run,” Eve reminds her, and she hears Villanelle stand, her bare feet making a soft noise as she crosses the room.

Then, Villanelle’s hands on her hips, coming up to her from behind. They stray further forward than is proper, going for the button on Eve’s jeans. Villanelle presses her body against Eve’s, slips a hand into Eve’s jeans, and works her fingers just enough to drive Eve insane. Eve tries not to think about Villanelle’s breasts against her shoulder blades, or her breath hot against Eve’s neck, face practically buried in Eve’s hair. 

“I  _ really _ want to go with you, Eve.” As she talks, Villanelle’s hand goes further down, but stays frustratingly on top of Eve’s underwear. “Say yes.”

_ Yes.  _ Eve remembers who they are. What they’re doing. She shakes her head, grabs Villanelle’s wrist, and fights every urge inside of her as she pulls Villanelle’s hand out of her pants.

She turns around, and she expects Villanelle to take a step back, but Eve realizes turning is a mistake. Villanelle stays there, presses even closer to her, and oh God, their lips are an  _ inch _ apart. Fuck. Okay. Eve says, shakily, “No, it’s too risky.”

In a flash, Villanelle’s hand is in Eve’s pants, this time far past the underwear. She dives in, swallowing Eve’s moan with her lips. For an insanely long moment, she presses Eve against the table, teasing Eve where she needs it most.

“Eve,” Villlanelle says.

“Mm, um, yeah?”

“I want you to  _ fuck _ me, okay?” Villanelle’s eyes are bright, right there in front of Eve, unblinking.

Eve thinks she’ll agree to anything if Villanelle asked her like this, with the tips of her index and middle fingers hovering outside of her. Eve nods. Double nods. Keeps nodding. “Okay.”

“So,” Villanelle continues, “I want you to come to the store to get  _ fitted _ .”

_ Oh. _ Well, when she puts it like that — Eve nods again. 

Villanelle smiles brilliantly, and she removes her hand altogether and waltzes back to the bed.

Eve’s jaw drops, a little too literally. “I - what?”

“Let’s go now,” Villanelle suggests, slipping out of her robe and revealing miles of perfect, naked skin. Eve stares. Can’t help it. Villanelle goes to the closet and runs through the clothes, but Eve stares at her ass as she moves, one step at a time, before Villanelle turns and smiles at her. “Eve,” she chastises, “You’re being  _ rude _ .”

Clearing her throat, Eve looks at the floor. Then, looks back up, because — “No,” she argues, “You were rude when you —“

Villanelle turns and blinks at her innocently.

“Whatever,” Eve grumbles. “Let’s go to the damn store.”

 

.

 

Turns out, Villanelle was right, and a sex shop in Amsterdam is leagues different than one in Connecticut. Villanelle greets the bored-looking cashier, while Eve stumbles through the door behind her, blushing furiously. She accidentally makes eye contact with a bright pink dildo that’s stuck to the wall, so Eve’s eyes find the floor to avoid any further mishaps.

Despite everything, Villanelle’s hand finds hers, and it feels more intimate than her face being buried between Eve’s legs. The last person to hold her hand had been Niko, probably years ago.

Villanelle leads Eve to a different section of the store, where she points out several harnesses. “This one cups your ass,” she says, and Eve shakes her head, feeling wildly out of place. “Eve,” Villanelle tries again, pulling her back in. “It’s okay.”

“What,” Eve starts, flustered, “we’re just going to pretend that we’re not --” she pauses, lowering her voice, “on the  _ run _ . Like we’re on some holiday?”

“Yeah,” Villanelle says breezily, like it’s obvious. “What color do you like?”

Eve stares at her, not thinking about the dildos of all shapes and sizes in her periphery. Villanelle stares back, her expression hard, and Eve realizes that Villanelle’s not worried, so Eve shouldn’t be. At least, for now. 

So Eve gives Villanelle a soft smile and says, “I don’t know… Black?”

“Ooh, Eve,” Villanelle murmurs, stepping closer to her, “I didn’t realize you were so saucy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eve lets Villanelle help her pick something out. She pays attention when something really catches Villanelle’s attention, and in the end, they choose something large, larger than Eve had expected, and an expensive leather harness that Villanelle insists on getting Eve measured for. 

 

.

 

It’s another few nights in Amsterdam before Eve finally brings herself to find the box and pull it out from underneath the hotel bed. Villanelle is out, presumably shopping, and Eve opens the lid and stares at the harness. Does she remember how to put it on?

She doesn’t. She tries a few times, attempting to figure out which buckle goes where. It reminds her of the harness she’d had for her dog when she was a child; a complicated piece that became even more complicated the more buckles you undid. After a few minutes, Eve resorts to Googling, pulling out the burner computer and hoping no one is watching their browsing history. She looks up the brand, rolls her eyes when she sees how  _ highly recommended _ it is, and then finally, figures out how to put it on.

She’s nervous. More than nervous. Thrilled, excited, but nervous.

Part of her wants to look in the mirror, after she’s slid the dildo into place, but the other part of her thinks that’ll ruin it. Should she put pants on? Should she --

There’s a small  _ beep _ as Villanelle lets herself into the hotel room. Eve flees to the bathroom, shutting the door, and through it, she hears Villanelle’s amused voice. “Eve?”

“Uh,” Eve starts, watching the dildo jiggle uncomfortably between her legs. She still has her shirt on, and she thinks she looks ridiculous. “I’ll be out in a second.”

She braves a look in the mirror, and decides that she doesn’t look as ridiculous as she’d assumed. Hm. Something about this feels empowering, and she feels a soft warmth grow low inside of her as her mind slips to Villanelle, beneath her, pulling at her hips.

Eve shuffles to the door, opens it slightly, and tells Villanelle, “Sit on the bed.”

She doesn’t see Villanelle’s reaction, but she supposed it’s probably something like a challenge, because when she steps out of the bathroom, Villanelle is not sitting on the bed. She stands in the middle of the room, stares at Eve, before her gaze sinks lower and settles between Eve’s legs.

“Oh,” is all Villanelle says, before she takes a step back and sits on the bed. 

Eve’s feeling of power fades fast. She wills herself to cross the room, thinks about the way Villanelle is looking at her, with lust and dark eyes. She notices the soft movement of Villanelle’s throat as she swallows, and she thinks about tearing off the stupid designer shirt Villanelle is wearing, casual yet form-fitting.

Standing before Villanelle on the bed, Eve looks down, and Villanelle looks up.

And then, Villanelle shifts forward, puts a hand on the base of the shaft, and presses ruby red lips against the tip of it. It does nothing for Eve, except she imagines Villanelle’s lips on her, the  _ real _ her, and then it starts doing  _ something _ . Villanelle wraps her lips around the toy and sucks on it, and Eve finds herself reminded of the times she’d given blowjobs, and she finds she can recognize the appeal, if only in appearances.

Eve realizes Villanelle is giving this to her, this moment, and that realization is all it takes for Eve to grab Villanelle’s face and yank her to her feet, smashing their lips together. Villanelle tastes like silicone, briefly, and then she tastes like Villanelle, all saliva and teeth. 

Villanelle pulls Eve flush against her, the toy between them, and she breathes, “Eve.”

Eve nods against Villanelle’s lips, hands drifting to Villanelle’s breasts, and then they’re falling back onto the bed, Eve shifting uncomfortably on top of Villanelle. She moves, and Villanelle groans, and Eve realizes the toy is between Villanelle’s legs, pushing against her.

“I don’t,” Eve starts to say, unsure. “I’m not sure how to --”

Villanelle nods, frantically, and then shoves Eve onto the other side of the bed. Eve lands on her back, and she watches as Villanelle slides out of her jeans insanely quickly, slings a leg over Eve’s hips, and then she’s angling the toy so it slides right into her, hovering over Eve’s body.

Eve doesn’t move, just waits for Villanelle to sink into her, her eyes fluttering. There’s a long beat, and Villanelle lets out a soft breath, before she leans forward and kisses Eve, moving her hips slowly, methodically, and Eve feels the pressure of her movement against her own clit, just a  _ tap, tap, tap _ that begins to drive her insane.

Villanelle sinks her teeth into Eve’s neck, biting hard, and Eve groans, works her hips out of habit, and Villanelle  _ laughs _ , the sound catching in her throat, turning into a moan.

“Yes, Eve,” she breathes, hot and heavy in Eve’s ear. “Yes. Yes.”

Eve moves her hips, but realizes quickly that won’t work, not with Villanelle maintaining her own rhythm.

She grabs Villanelle’s ass, pulls her cheeks apart, pulls Villanelle closer to her own hips, and thinks about what she likes, what would feel good --

Eve sits up, pushing them both up, and the toy dives deeper into Villanelle. Villanelle groans, says, “Fuck,” says, “Oh god,  _ Eve _ , fuck me --”

Growing in her confidence, Eve pushes Villanelle over, landing on top of her, slides back in, and starts moving her hips, not necessarily gently, but exploring, getting used to the angle of the toy, and Villanelle’s head pushes back into the bed, her honey hair splayed out behind her like a halo.

“Harder,” Villanelle says, so Eve listens.

She picks up in speed, pulls further out only to push back in just as roughly, and with each thrust Villanelle is nodding, biting her lip, looking at Eve like she’s the only person in the world. Eve puts a hand on Villanelle’s shoulder, holding her there, and Villanelle’s head shifts to the side, her lips finding Eve’s fingers.

Eve presses her thumb into Villanelle’s mouth, then her hand slips down to her neck, wrapping there.

Villanelle’s eyes go impossibly darker. She nods, just once, and Eve presses down, slows her thrusting, and Villanelle says, breathlessly, “Fuck, keep going.”

Eve fucks Villanelle hard, finally finding her rhythm, and as she holds Villanelle’s throat, feels her beating heart just underneath her hand, Villanelle comes with a loud cry, loud enough to make Eve think about the neighbors. Perhaps they’ll get a noise complaint. Eve stays inside of her until Villanelle comes down, finally lets go of Villanelle’s neck to reveal red, splotchy marks across it. It’ll probably bruise.

Finally, Eve slides out of her, with Villanelle letting out a small gasp. The toy between her legs feels like it’s the only barrier between Eve and her own pleasure, so she quickly unbuckles the first buckle she finds, sliding out of it.

“Fuck,” Villanelle just says, then looks at Eve, smiling wildly. “A warm welcome to me.”

Shaking her head, Eve just laughs, before Villanelle is pinning her to the bed and starting all over again. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks. I'm turning this into a series. This will be my post s2 fic for now, as I haven't come together enough for another one. Every chapter is mostly standalone and will feature Eve and Villanelle having sex in different cities. These horny fuckers.

**Author's Note:**

> sick beat, dude. kudos and comment if u enjoyed.


End file.
